The benefits and disadvantages of Immortality
by Tipsy Writer
Summary: Through the trials and tribulations of his first life, Harry Potter became the Master of Death. Unfortunately the title isn't all it's cracked up to be. Stuck in an endless cycle, reliving the same life over and over again, Harry's purpose now isn't to destroy Voldemort or protect Wizarding Britain, but rather to stave off the boredom as best he can.


**I kinda felt like writing something in the Harry Potter-verse, so here's the first chapter.**

**For all those waiting on the next To Make A Hero chapter, sorry for the delay, and I'll do my best to get right to it.**

**Reviews are always nice, but whether you do or not, I hope you enjoy my drunken ramblings.**

**~Tipsy**

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It was just after midnight on Saturday, July 23rd of 1991. And strange things were brewing above the township of Little Whinging, Surrey. Most notably above the house of number 4, on privet drive.

The fact that something strange was occurring was not (even given the implicit oxymoron) all that outside of normal for the household; despite the strident efforts of its members to make it so.

Strange things were always occurring in number 4. Suddenly shrinking sweaters, floating blocks, staggering eruptions of sudden hair-growth. No, it was not the strangeness which was, in fact, strange. Rather the intensity. It was something which left the very air surrounding the small community heavy. And filled to the brim with limitless power and possibility.

It came in the form of a storm, albeit not one crafted from wind and rain. Magic, instead, was its essence; magic strung together by the ever-winding threads of Fate, and pulled towards Little Whinging by the unstoppable force of destiny. Its great gusts – invisible to the naked eye, but felt by all those now huddled inside their homes – tore down the township's streets. Searching.

Until, hidden within the small cupboard of number 4, it found what it was looking for.

For a moment the very world seemed to shudder and tremble, before the baleful energy began to shift, and then spiral, forming into a vortex that hovered just above that small, dank closet located beneath the stairs. Then it paused, time itself seeming to halt with it, waiting with bated breath. Before suddenly stabbing itself into the abdomen of the small, malnourished, child that lay curled up within.

The boy shuddered for a moment before his body suddenly jerked into a sitting position, eyes wide, mouth gasping desperately for air, staring at the walls which surrounded him and the fingers which he slowly held up before his face. Then he spoke two words. Words which shattered prophecies, and unmade the fates of men and women across the world.

"Well, fuck."

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Immediately after, the boy's eyes relaxed from their expression of shock into something bordering on weary acceptance. With a slight motion of his hand, the cupboard door unlocked itself, and slowly slid open.

"You know," the boy said to himself, pausing briefly after exiting the cupboard to stretch his joints. "I'm not sure why I'm always so surprised. You'd think after all this time I'd give up on actually staying dead." Here he paused again to close the small door behind him, before heading towards the kitchen.

"I suppose hope, like life – or my life at any rate – truly does spring eternal. Feels kinda nice not to be all old and achy though. Outside of being ridiculously hungry, I haven't felt this good in years."

The boy shrugged after a moment, before continuing to the kitchen on his right. Tugging slightly at the enormous t-shirt which sat on his frame like an oversized poncho.

"Something bacony should take the edge off. The Dursley's always did have some bacon sitting around somewhere. It's one of the few good qualities the horrible bastards managed to acquire."

A little rustling around did in fact manage to turn up all the ingredients necessary to prepare a fairly extravagant looking BLT; as well as a 12 year old bottle of scotch which had been hidden behind some brik a brak on top of the fridge. The latter of which (due to his current short stature) required another slight twitching of his fingers to be coaxed down to the table below.

After messily preparing his meal in Petunia Dursely's once-spotless kitchen (while also filling a glass with the lion's worth of the remaining scotch), the boy sat down to eat. And to begin the arduous task of deciding the fate of Britain's wizarding world.

It took a few moments (mostly filled with the crunch of extra-crisp bacon being chewed, and the rude slurping of straight whiskey), but eventually he had come to a decision.

"Nope" He said thoughtfully, after swallowing his latest mouthful. "I don't think I feel like being Harry Potter again this time either."

The world seemed to shudder slightly in dismay.

"Maybe not even human." He said, after taking another bite. "It was pretty fun being the Sparrow King of Uzbekistan that one time. Hitchcock would have been proud." He paused for a few seconds at this, his slightly drunken mind (the immense levels of magic in his body burning off most of the alcohol before it could enter his bloodstream) enjoying a few particularly hilarious memories, before once again shaking his head to clear it.

His sandwich now finished, the boy (now decidedly not named Harry Potter; and soon perhaps not to even be a boy) kicked his feet up onto the tabletop, leaned his chair back, and began to stare thoughtfully at the ceiling above him. Occasionally, he would take a rather generous sip of scotch, and began to mutter to himself.

"I'm not in a Harry Potterish type mood, but for some reason I feel a bit like sticking around Britain. Maybe even around Hogwarts."

He interrupted himself briefly by refilling his glass with what was left of the bottle of scotch, and then tossing a good bit of it back down his throat.

"Maybe I should kill Neville's toad and then take its place. Neville is always at least on the outside of action; so it wouldn't be too boring. Plus, I've never been a toad before."

A few moments were given to this possibility, before it – as well as a half-formed plan to turn himself into an owl at wait for someone interesting to come into Eeylops – was discarded. Becoming a boring pet to some neophyte wizard just didn't allow much in the way of entertainment possibilities.

Just as he was finishing off the last of the scotch, an idea hit him.

"Well now," he drawled, slowly placing the glass back on the table. "That does have possibilities. And it would give me a chance to reconnect with an old friend, plus inject a great deal of craziness into her life without Harry Pottering-up the place." He smiled as he drunkenly got to his feet. "She really does need all the help she can get. Her life always turns out so boring without someone to push her into life or death situations."

He started to make his way towards the front door before pausing in thought right at the entry-way, a small frown replacing his former drunken smile.

"The rituals it would require will be fairly strenuous though." He muttered. "And I'd need a few sacrifices…"

He looked briefly up the stairway towards the rooms of Harry Potter's only living family… before slowly shaking his head.

"They're not really evil…" He groused, "horrible, disgusting people, but at their core merely cowardly, bigoted and spiteful."

He'd made a rule for himself long ago after some… unpleasantness… not to kill anyone he couldn't justify as, at their core, being more monster than human. It wouldn't be the first time he'd broken one of his own rules, but such life-times tended to get a bit… messy.

Besides, the world was not lacking in people who deserved death.

And the boy who was once Harry Potter happened to know the location of quite a few of them.

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Hermione Granger was currently floating face up in the large pool which occupied most of her family's backyard, feeling very well indeed. The last few months had been quite literally the best in her short life.

It seemed strange that such joy had been heralded by an elderly woman who she had thought – at first glance – was one of those crazy religious people who you'll see sometimes standing on a street-corner and yelling at passers-by. The ones her mother told her to avoid.

Admittedly that thought had strayed a bit past the first glace (both for her and her parents) only really being dismissed upon witnessing the deputy headmistress transfigure their sofa into a border collie (an experience which her father still claimed came quite close to giving him a heart attack).

But after that things had been, well, to give into the cliché', Magic!

She was special! All those strange things that used to happen when she was younger weren't creepy or weird, they were just tiny bits of uncontrolled magic. Magic!

She had to suppress an excited giggle at the thought, not wanting to slip underwater.

There was only one more week until the start of term at Hogwarts and the days didn't seem like they could pass any slower. She had already read through her text books a half dozen times each, and admittedly gobbled down another full dozen or so on auxiliary topics. She couldn't wait till next Monday. Couldn't wait to go to a school full of people like her.

She firmly believed there wasn't anything in the entirety of the world which could ruin her good mood right now.

"You were quiet difficult to track down. The world is larger than it once was."

Hermione sputtered as the deep voice broke her concentration, sending her head under the water.

"My apologies, I did not mean to startle you." It said again, as Hermione quickly rubbed the water out of her eyes; her nerves already fraying at the thought of some stranger sneaking into her backyard. She quickly turned towards the sound once she had finished.

Only to stare in shock, nearly going beneath again as her muscles froze in sheer terror.

Not ten feet away, laying in the shade of the yard's only tree, was a wolf.

A Huge wolf.

It was easily twice the size of the tiger she'd seen when her parents took her to the London Zoo, its body barely covered by the shadow of the huge poplar. Were it standing instead of lounging in the shade, she knew its head would clear the fence surrounding the yard.

She tried to gulp, but found her mouth to be bone dry.

It looked at her for a moment longer, seeming to be almost puzzled. Then it cocked its head to the side and opened its impossibly wide jaws, baring gleaming white fangs to the world.

"You have no need to fear me, little one." The same deep voice she'd heard before echoed through the yard, causing her eyes to widen even further. Something she would have told you a moment before wasn't possible.

"What?" she sputtered out, not even noticing as she swallowed a large amount of pool water.

"I said you have no need to fear me." The beast spoke again, before rising to its feet and proving that Hermione was correct about the relative smallness of her family's fence. "Would you like to get out? Shall I fetch your towel?"

Hermione was admittedly a bit nonplussed by the response, but was still able to add a few words to what was once a fairly impressive vocabulary.

"What are you?" she breathed out, mentally slapping herself upside the head when the question made the creature pause in its path towards the beach towel she had hung up by the back door, and turn its head back towards her.

It quirked its head to the side again before speaking. "That is a large question with an even larger number of answers." It said, before turning all the way around to face her and sitting on its hindquarters. Its head was now even further in the air, making her wonder briefly why none of the other kids she could hear playing in the street had noticed.

"As to my species, I am what the wizarding world once referred to as a 'Tibetan shadow wolf'. A name which refers to the area which my kind once populated, and to our ability to control and manipulate all areas untouched by the Sun's light." Here the now identified 'Tibetan shadow wolf' paused to see if she was still following along. Hermione found herself nodding unconsciously at the creature's teacher-like tone, fear making her incapable of much else.

It nodded back to her before continuing.

"More specifically, I am the last Tibetan shadow wolf. And one which was rather thoroughly changed by a number of magical rituals; one of which gave me the ability to speak the human tongue, and the intelligence to put that ability to good use.

The rest of my kind were hunted to extinction some few thousand years ago: due both to the fact that our hides – when properly prepared – can be put to much the same use as that of a demiguise; and that the unmodified members of my race were rather liberal with what they would consider 'food'. Not something you need to be worried about concerning me, I assure you."

There was another round of nods as Hermione found herself relaxing slightly. It seemed unlikely that the creature would eat her after going to the trouble of reading her a dissertation about itself after all.

"And, perhaps most importantly," It said, laying down again so that it was closer to eye-level. "I am your familiar."

Hermione felt her heart stop. She looked over the beast, her mind now grasping a few more details about it, rather than simply focusing on its impossible size and how horribly dangerous that mouth full of teeth looked.

It stood well over five feet at the shoulder, with paws larger than dinner plates, and was covered with a thick coat of dusky black fur – fur cut with small lines of silver which seemed to shine slightly whenever the sun cut though the leaves to strike its coat. Its eyes – which she could now see were shining with intelligence and wisdom – were an intensely brilliant emerald green. Once you got over exactly how awesomely terrifying it looked it (_He. _She mentally reprimanded herself. Terrifying wolf-beast or not, they were currently having a civilized conversation and it seemed impolite to call the wolf 'it' when he was obviously male)… He was really quite gorgeous.

"You're… You're my familiar?" she finally managed to stutter out.

"Indeed. As I said before, I had quite the difficult time finding you. The last time I was in this part of the world, it was far less populated."

Hermione gulped again before speaking.

"Um… When… When was that?"

The wolf looked slightly startled at the question, but replied fairly quickly.

"Oh, perhaps a thousand years ago or so… I have spent a great deal of time between now and then asleep, so it is hard to be entirely sure." He then paused and looked at her again, seemingly ignoring the further shock which had taken over her face. "I was in search of another potential Master at the time, but, alas, the era was quite chaotic. He ended up running afoul of something or other before I could find him, and I was left with no other recourse but to sleep… and wait."

At this he once more got to his feet, before gliding over to the backdoor to carefully pick her towel off the doorknob with his massive jaws. Hermione forced herself not to swim further away as he brought the item to the edge of the pool.

"There are other matters to discuss regarding the familiar bond," He said, voice muffled as it tried to make its way through layers of terry cloth. "But the discussion is likely to be a long one and it would be best to make yourself a bit more comfortable."

Hermione took a deep breath, before slowly paddling towards the side of the pool. For some reason she was beginning to trust the gigantic creature which, only moments before, had utterly terrified her. Perhaps it was an effect of the familiar bond… She mentally chided herself for not purchasing any books on the subject. Still, burgeoning trust or no, there was another issue she had to keep in mind.

"Um…" She said softly as she slowly pulled herself out of the water, now only a few feet from what had to be one of the most dangerous predators in either world – natural or magical. "This is all a lot to take in… Can we wait till my parents get home to talk about the rest?"

The giant wolf nodded, before lowering her towel to the ground and taking a few steps back. Seeming to sense that she would be hesitant to take the article from between his enormous jaws.

"Of course." He finally said, before turning up his lips into what was actually a rather well executed smile. "You are rather young yet, so seeking advice from your elders is a simple wisdom. Would you like me to stay outside while you go in to wait for them?"

Hermione smiled back as she picked up the towel, slowly feeling better and better about this situation. Even if she knew logically that her parents probably wouldn't be very much help should the giant wolf actually try to attack, it would make her feel a bit better to have them there. Plus, they might want at least some say in whether a twelve foot long Tibetan Shadow Wolf was joining the family.

"Yes please." She said. "And thank you for being so considerate. I know you said you've been looking for me for a long time."

"Think nothing of it." The wolf said, smiling again. "I truly doubt another few hours will be any kind of a burden. And they will be well worth it if your parents company will put you more at ease."

Hermione found herself smiling back even wider than the last time, before a stray thought hit her brain, causing her to blink.

"Oh!" She suddenly said. "I'm sorry, I can't believe I've been so rude as to not introduce myself! My name's Hermione Jean Granger."

The wolf chuckled again, and this time the sound filled Hermione's chest with a strange warmth.

"It is a truly great pleasure to meet you, Hermione. My name is Lukan.

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Daniel Granger sighed in relief as he pulled the family's two year old Mercedes into the driveway, looking over at his wife in a bit of consternation.

"Are you sure we can't refuse service to the Guthries? Or at the very least occasionally 'forget' to give them a full dose of Novocain?"

"You know the answer to both of those questions, Daniel Granger." His wife, Emma, said. Giving him an obviously amused glare. "Besides, annoying or not, those four root canals just paid for your little girl's first term at Magic School."

They both snickered a bit at that, still not entirely able to believe that magic was real. Much less that their daughter would soon be able to use it.

"I'll try to think of it as an investment then." Dan said, groaning as he got out of the car. "I'll put up with the bastards for now, then have Hermione turn them into frogs once she graduates."

This set both of them off again, chuckling to themselves as they made their way to the front door of their home.

Only for it to burst open before they were even half-way up the walk. Their little girl nearly flying out of the entrance towards them, a smile even larger than what had become usual for the last few months.

"Mum! Dad! You're finally home!"

Dan and Emma both blinked a bit at the exuberant greeting, but then simply shrugged at each other, both figuring that their daughter had found out yet another amazing fact about the magical world and had been waiting all day to tell them about it.

"Yep," Dan finally said, leaning over to kiss his daughter's forehead. "Sorry we took so long, Pumpkin, but we had a few late visitors to the clinic."

Emma leaned down to get a hug and kiss as well, before they both noticed that Hermione was slowly dancing back and forth on her feet. Looking exactly like she did when she was little and needed a pee (something which, if said out loud, Dan was sure she'd never forgive him for). It was obvious that there was something going on. Something that had their daughter looking both excited and nervous.

"Is something the matter, sweetie?" Emma asked, raising her eyebrow.

"Um… Not really the matter…" Hermione said a bit anxiously. Making both of her parents instantly suspicious. "It's a really good thing, actually… but we should probably go inside to talk about it…"

Now Dan was _really _suspicious, but nodded along with his wife. Figuring there was a better than average chance that this involved magic, and thus probably wouldn't be the best conversation to have on their front porch.

The first thing Dan noticed upon walking into the house was that the large folding doors to their living room had been closed. He couldn't remember another time any one of them had shut the things; the living room was connected to just about all of the first floor, so it was an incredible hassle to keep opening and closing the things as you were making your way around.

At least the location of whatever was going on was easily located.

He noticed Emma glance at the doors as well, before turning to stare at their still fidgeting daughter.

"Well," Emma said, crossing her arms and giving her child a slight 'look'. "We're inside now. Do you think you can tell us what's going on?"

Hermione glanced back and forth between them – Dan doing his best to copy his wife's expression, never having been terribly good at being stern with his little girl – before the stress got too much for her and words burst from her mouth.

"I have a familiar!"

Dan blinked. Then he looked at Emma.

She seemed just as bemused.

Then he looked at Hermione, who had that same fearful-excited look on her face.

"Well… um…" Dan started, before he was interrupted by his wife.

"Hermione, sweetie, we already talked about this the last time we went to Diagon Alley. Maybe we can think about getting you a pet in a couple of years but-"

"He's not a pet!" Hermione interrupted anxiously, making Dan feel better for not being the only one cut off. "He's a real magical familiar! He came into the garden this afternoon to tell me that we were bonded! I read in Hogwarts a History afterwards that finding a magical familiar is really rare, apart from Albus Dumbledore the Headmaster of the school I'm going to there are only three other wizards or witches with familiars in all of Europe and none of them were found by their familiar until they were already in their mid to late thirties and-"

Emma raised her hand slightly and Hermione's mouth closed with a slight 'click'. They had long since gotten used to their daughters tendency to rattle on unless stopped.

"You say he came into the garden and _told_ you he was your familiar?" His wife said

Hermione simply shook her head up and down rapidly, seeming to still be attempting to contain a long and rambling speech.

"So your new familiar can speak English?" Emma continued, looking a bit skeptical.

"Yes!" Hermione replied swiftly, a bright smile once more bursting onto her face. "His name's Lukan!"

"And I suppose he's currently in the living room?" Dan finally spoke up.

Hermione blushed a bit at this, before nodding once again.

"At first I asked him to wait outside until you came home… but since you were running really late it seemed impolite to ask him to just sit out there by himself."

Dan groaned slightly, in that second hating the Guthries just that little bit more.

"It's not like a magical pig or something, is it?" He asked. "We're not going to enter that room to find muddy hoof prints up and down the carpet?"

Dan – thinking about the other animals it seemed wizards thought of as familiars – thought that this comment might add a bit of levity to the situation. If anything, however, Hermione's face only grew paler.

"No…" she finally said. "He's not a pig…"

Emma raised her other eyebrow, giving their daughter the full on 'you-best-start-explaining-yourself-young-lady' glare. Dan was unfortunately unable to copy that one (his attempts merely making him look confused and constipated) so was stuck with words.

"Well." He said, simply. "What is it?"

Hermione fidgeted even more under their combined parental assault, her hesitance to respond making Dan feel more and more certain that he wouldn't be happy with the answer to his question.

"It might be better to show you instead." Hermione said, getting out from under her mother's gaze and moving towards the doors.

Once she got there she tightly gripped both handles before turning back to look at her parents one last time.

"Just… Try not to freak out, okay?"

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Harry smiled to himself as Hermione dashed out of the living room upon hearing her parent's car pull up outside, barely remembering to close the sliding doors behind her.

This was looking like it would be a lot of fun.

He was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to convince Hermione that the twelve foot long, immensely muscled, obviously magical beast which had suddenly appeared in her backyard was an appropriate companion for evening tea – which was what they had been doing until the elder Grangers had shown up. He supposed he shouldn't be though, this was after all the same girl who – during his first life – had rushed along with him in an attempt to save a legendary magical artifact from a pseudo-lich not ten months in the future.

Taking that into account, asking him in for tea didn't sound crazy in the least. After all, big as he was, that Cerberus had at least three feet on him. Not to mention a couple of heads.

It had still required a few compulsion charms of course (none of which he really felt guilty about. After all, they were simply telling her that she could trust him, which she could) but they were only minor ones. Most of the comfort she was beginning to feel in his presence (she had even got up the courage to ask to pet him not long ago – which he graciously allowed) seemed to be coming from within her, unaltered by outside influence.

Perhaps she was simply in the right frame of mind to allow such insane trust to grow. If he recalled correctly, Hermione had described the time between learning she was a witch, and actually stepping foot at Hogwarts, as one of the best in her life. It was only after her first few days there – learning that having magic didn't make bullies or bigots disappear – that she came down from that high to realize that the wizarding world was just like the real one. Only people there could throw laser beams at you.

Harry grinned a bit evilly to himself, deciding that he was going to make that high last a lot longer in this life-time. As one of his more common friends(at least during the times he decided to hang around the British wizarding world) she deserved nothing less.

This might be the first time he could genuinely say he was looking forward to meeting Malfoy.

Well, other than those few instances where he'd gone a bit loopy; but those were best not thought about.

"Just… try not to freak out, okay?" He heard from just behind the folding doors. He couldn't help but grin at that.

_Try not to freak out? That might be the single most terrifying sentence a parent can hear coming from their child._

He quickly stifled his chuckles and slapped on his game-face.

It was showtime.

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For a moment after the doors were flung open, Dan couldn't spot it. To be fair, he was busy searching both the floor and the rafters for a creature which fit into the general size category as all the other wizarding 'familiars'.

Then he remembered that they didn't own a second couch.

That realization was quickly followed by a choked gasp coming from his partner of almost twenty years.

Dan himself didn't make any such noise. Finding an enormous wolf laying in one's living room might seem an appropriate time for screams or exclamations, but in reality it was times like this that primal human instinct took control.

You might scream if you walked in to find a horde of rats making themselves at home in your kitchen, or shout if you found a stray dog had somehow found a way into your living room; but those are creatures which you subconsciously feel stronger than, able to defend yourself and your family against.

Against something like this, every fiber of your body screams at you to be silent and still. Hoping against hope that you will not be noticed. That there is still some way to escape.

Then the massive beast turned its head to stare at them, and Daniel Granger felt his heart go still.

As it began to open its jaws, a million half-formed thoughts of both foolish heroics and horrible cowardice flew through his mind, only to come to an abrupt halt – along with most other brain functions – when the giant monster in front of them spoke.

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Granger." It said politely, with a nod of its massive head. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

_ 'What?' _was the only thought which echoed through his mind. The simple question clogging up all other avenues of thought.

It was this he blamed for his inability to do more than futilely twitch his hand when Hermione rushed past him and her mother (who seemed similarly indisposed) and straight to the side of the beast, laying a hand on its tree-trunk thick neck.

"Mum, Dad, this is Lukan, my familiar!" She said proudly, seemingly unaware of the horrors currently rushing through her parents minds. "He's a Tibetian Shadow Wolf!"

It was only then that Dan noticed the dainty tea cup sitting between the creature's feet. A small part of his mind absently thought that Hermione was in for a scolding for using Emma's fine china.

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Given all the long years of his life, Albus Dumbledore was sure there were at least a few moments wherein he was in a greater state of panic, but he rather doubted that the instances involved – even the lamentable loss of his sister – had ever been quite as serious.

As he paced back and forth across the width of his office (forbidden from doing so elsewhere in the castle by a similarly stressed Minerva) he wondered at how he could have missed what must have been a long-running and elaborate plot to cripple the side of the Light.

He kept close tabs on all of Voldemort's inner circle. Kept track of all the bribes and payouts. Watched closely any of their dealings out-of-country. How could it be possible for them to obfuscate a plan so large, much less carry it out without him being aware in the slightest.

He had heard the rumors of strange incidents in Albania, even felt the touch of darkness on poor Quirinius, and had prepared accordingly.

But this…

Never even at his most pessimistic had he ever considered the possibility of Britain's enemies capturing both Harry potter and the Elder Wand in a single night… Much less right from under his nose…

What was even worse was they left no clue as to how. Even after Calling the Order back to arms – and sending its members near round the world in search of answers – he was no closer to understanding their methods than he had been when awoken sometime after midnight on July twenty third by the Wards on Pivet drive failing.

At this moment the future of the world was more unsure than it had ever been, and Albus Dumbledore had no idea how to get it back on track…


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